A Blood Sacrifice
by Mladvey
Summary: Eric calls upon is former flame, Sookie, to help him quell a rebellion. They find out the roots of the rebellion go back a bit farther than Eric could have ever imagined. Rated M for future content.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own the show, nor do I own the books on which the show was based.

**Rating**: Rated M. Mostly because of swearing and content that will occur in later chapters.

**Summary**: Rumors of a rebellion in certain supernatural groups cause Eric to call upon his former flame, Sookie, to find the cause of it. They find out that the roots of the rebellion goes farther back than Eric could have ever imagined.

**A/N**: This is my first attempt at uploading A fic! One day a few months ago I sat down and wrote this chapter, and then I was like "How in the hell am I gonna follow this?" I realized that if, maybe, I had a reason to finish it, like uploading it somewhere, I would get inspired to make it awesome the whole way through. I know it's pretty boring for now, but I have a direction I'm going with this, I promise. Thanks for reading!

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><p>Music pounded through the air as I walked from my office onto my stage. The audience tonight was quite large, and I grinned slyly as I took my spot on my throne. I crossed my fingers and set my elbows on the arms of my iron chair as I surveyed the crowd.<p>

The smell of sex and blood was in the air. However, it was the smell of that awful synthetic shit TrüBlood, which made the smell of the former less appealing. I made eye contact with the pathetic humans that dared admire me, judging each and every one of them to see which of them was worthy enough to be honored by my mere recognition.

Who am I to judge, you ask?

I am Eric the Northman, the oldest vampire in the whole of Louisiana. One thousand years ago, I was part of one of the most feared tribes of men ever known to the European mainland - the Vikings. What a pathetic question humans ask these days.

I have every right to judge them.

Just look at them; look at the way they demoralize themselves just to have me acknowledge them. It made me laugh. I had no room for pity when it came to humans. Not anymore.

They were blind to their true intentions. They sought me out because they desired death. The sought me because I embody all that is death. These people wished to die. I simply would not give them that pleasure.

My subjects stared at me as I thought, waiting upon my every move. If I twitched, they would gasp and guffaw at how magnificent I was. It was quite ridiculous. I cannot lie, though, I enjoyed the attention.

Suddenly, a woman burst through the crowd and made her way towards me, shouting my name.

What audacity! What sheer rudeness! How dare she disrespect me. Doe she not know who I am? Does she not know what I-

Oh.

It was the infamous Sookie Stackhouse. Her wavy blonde hair bounced as she stomped her way up to me. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

I had met her one night in my bar when she was investigating some of her friends' deaths. I am not certain why she thought to search here, but I did know those women were found with semi-healed bite marks on their corpses. She may or may not have told me that, I could not recall.

From that day on, I had a quite embarrassing fascination with her. Or, I dare say it, infatuation. I had tried to make her mine many times, and a few times - well, more than a few, according to her. I was an amnesiac for a few weeks - I had succeeded in doing so. I also dare say I loved her, but she ruined all chances of that when she ran back to that disaster that is Bill Compton, her first love. After that and a few days of humiliating pain, I gave up on her, which she appreciated I suppose. She was happy with him - disgusting - and at least that gave me some peace. And, at least I knew that I was definitely a better bed mate than Bill Compton.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips as she shifted her weight and cocked her head to one side. She was mad about something.

"Eric Northman," She seethed, "how dare you use me for your stupid vampire bullshit."

I sighed. I did not want to deal with her at this moment. "I do not remember ever telling you that I nulled our arrangement," I responded, looking down at her with little emotion, "and furthermore, it is not simply vampire bullshit. The reason I summoned you through Bill is because many people are involved in this bullshit, and I knew you well enough to know you would not appreciate someone else summoning you to do their dirty work."

"Yeah, but you summoned me through Bill. If you wanted me to do your dirty work, you should have come to me yourself! I swear to God, Eric, you make me so mad sometimes."

I snorted. I did not acknowledge that with a response. She was so testy sometimes over such small things. She did not realize that I did not come to her myself because she would have become angry with me for visiting her at Bill's house. This woman could never make up her damn mind. Honestly, sometimes I wished her out of my life, but she lived in my area and I was responsible for her as Sheriff, since she was a vampire's human. I would just have to deal with her mood swings for a brief while.

She stood there tapping her foot. Gods.

"Miss Stackhouse," I addressed her formally, "if it pleases you, this next favor I ask of you will be the last time I ever call upon your service."

Her lips parted and her eyes widened with surprise. She uncrossed her arms and laid them limply beside her body. All of her anger seemed to wipe off of her face. "Are...Are you serious, Eric?"

It had gotten to the point in our relationship where I slightly disdained her saying my name. "I would not say such a thing unless I was, indeed, serious."

She timidly crossed her hands in front of her. "Eric, I..." She wanted to make eye contact with me, but I refused her that piece of comfort.

"There are murmurs," I decided to get to the point - it looked like she was about to cry, and I hated it when she did that, "that some of the Shreveport weres are thinking of rebelling against their current pack leader."

"That's all?" She interrupted.

"No," I said, irritated, "they are rabid. Sources inform me that they are addicted to vampire blood. They intend to kill all those who support the current packmaster so that none will appose who they appoint to the new leadership." I decided to let that sink in.

By the look of her expression, she did not understand what I was insinuating.

"Alcide is Bryant's second in command."

Her eyes widened and she cupped her hands over her mouth.

"Furthermore," I continued, " it not only should be a personal matter to you on that level, but you should also know what they intend to do when they come to power. They plan to go to war with the vampires."

"But you guys are stronger than them, can't you just stop it yourself?"

"We have tried. And Stackhouse," I wanted to make myself as impersonal as possible, "Weres addicted to vampire blood are a lot stronger than you give them credit. You have seen them before. And we are indeed stronger than them, but we would only be able to fight back from dusk till dawn. The Weres would have an advantage of not only being active at the times where we are rendered useless, but their superior tracking abilities would allow them to be able to find us wherever we may hide, even though we do our best to conceal ourselves. It would be a disaster for both sides.

"We have tried to interrogate suspected rebels, but they are, as you would say, 'hard nuts to crack.' The massive amounts of vampire blood they had ingested made it to where they were numb to all we could give them. Most of them died without uttering a word. Speaking of massive amounts, it seems to us that they are perhaps behind certain cases of missing baby vampires, which would be the source of their seemingly endless supply of the blood."

She pondered for a moment. "And what exactly do you need me to do?"

"We need you to infiltrate a place where the rebels frequently congregate. We need you to try and find out who their leader is."

She nodded finally. "I'll need the details, of course."

I sighed and sat up from my chair, beckoning her to follow me into my office. Once there, I handed her a piece of paper with the name of a music venue and bar called Farrell's. It also had the amount of money I was willing to pay her for her efforts. It was more than usual, considering it was quite dangerous.

She said some words and turned to leave.

"I am going with you," I said.

She turned on her heel and looked puzzled. "I can just make Bill go with me."

"No, you will not. I will go with you. Not inside, of course, as they will become suspicious of me. But not you, as humans regularly attend this bar."

She crumpled her nose and huffed out "Fine," and then left.

I stood there in my office for a while contemplating over the events that had happened already this evening. Had I asked too much of her? No. No, I did not.

I slicked back my hair and went back to work.


End file.
